we're just pretty little nothings
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: It's a big, big universe. / NextGen drabble collection.
1. teddyvictoire

**This is my collection of drabbles off the NextGen Fanatics Drabble Tag, and I kinda stole the idea from the wonderful authors Aiiimy & s i l v e r a u r o r a, so I say look over at theirs if you haven't yet, they're much better than mine! :]**

victoireteddy; _innocent_

as requested by siriusgirlstar

.

He loves her. Especially in white.

All her white dresses reach only to her knees, and in them she lets her white-blonde hair cascade down her back, long and silken. Her olive skin will glow in the springtime sun, and her grin will be big and radiant, and he'll watch her from afar. His lips will curl up and he'll tingle and his hair will rapidly change colors to suit the chaotic amount of emotions rumbling inside of him.

It's when she wears white that she's at her most beautiful - she's already naturally beautiful, with her part-Veela ways and self-confidence alone, but when she dons something white, she'll resemble something like an angel. An angel with a halo of blonde hair and short white dresses, and it'll make her the picture of innocence, of love. He prefers it much more to red and black dresses, that squeeze her in places and show her off as something not even close to an angel, and he hates that because she's _his_, and he can't handle the wolfish whistles and the smirks that come upon her cherry-red lips that shows _she likes the attention_.

And he hates it, because he knows she's like this, always has been and always will be, but in white he can pretend she's better than that and that he doesn't have to worry about her spontaneously changing her mind (he couldn't go on without her).

He loves her. Especially when innocent.

(He loves her halfheartedly a lot.)


	2. teddylilyvictoire

victoirelilyteddy; _summer_

as requested by BlueEyes444

.

Teddy goes away that summer, off with Charlie in Romania to care for the dragons. Lily begrudgingly tells him she hates him, with every fiber of her being. He just laughs and plants a kiss on her cheek that makes them both feel electrified in the most inappropriate of ways.

"Be good, Lily-pad, okay?" he tells her, and she promises.

She breaks a promise.

Victoire is just too beautiful and mystifying, and it's _wrongwrongwrong_ because she's so old and a girl and her _cousin_, and she told Teddy she'd be good, and then she broke her promise, one that may just break _him_.

And it makes her feel like she's drenched in sin, and it won't come off with any soap or charm; no, it's there to stay, and as long as she runs off with Victoire to the tall weeds, in the hot, sticky summer sun, away from prying eyes and ears and mouths (_that will tell Teddy_) it's going to be ingrained in her, a sin that'll surely send her soul to Hell.

She's so sinful and ashamed, because she told Teddy she wouldn't be bad, and then she went and was bad in the worst way, and it breaks her heart because she's damaging two people in love who she's been in love with for a long, long time.


	3. albusoc

albusoc; _wondrous_

as requested by PrincessPearl

.

In all honesty, she's kind of a pest.

Jodi Longbottom can never really keep her mouth shut for long, which is peculiar since - apparently - her parents were timid and quiet. Well, she gets like that around people she isn't friends with, but around Lily and Roxanne and, oh goody, Albus, there's practically no way to shut her up.

And it's really a wondrous thing, the effect they have on her, how with them she can be so comfortable her shell is immediately cast off, and it sort of makes Al feel good (because, erm, she's kind of cute - for a pest).

But he wouldn't mind it if, for once, she just was quiet when he was trying to study for OWLs.


	4. lilyteddy

teddylily; _raspberries_

as requested by AllieGator Tears

.

Lily's giggles are loud and prominent as Teddy straps her little body to the bed, lifts up her shirt, and proceeds to give raspberries on her stomach. She squeals and whacks at his head but he just smiles and gives her more before she can wriggle out of his grasp, and go off running (but not too fast, now, he has to catch her sometime).

"Bloody hell, would you cut it out?" James gripes from the next room where his textbooks are strewn out on the kitchen table. "Just 'cause _you two_ don't have school doesn't mean I don't. That blasted DADA teacher is a kook, giving us homework over the holidays." He raises one auburn eyebrow Teddy's way, and Teddy just lets out a banshee-esque laugh as he grabs Lily under her armpits.

"I only gave you third-years a little bit of work," he says loudly over the noise of Lily's huffs and pouts as she tries to escape Teddy's vice-like grip. "You should _thank_ me."

"_Thank_ you." James sarcastically replies, before dunking his head back in his book. Teddy turns his attention back on Lily, who he has been holding above the floor for a good few minutes now.

"Teddy, lemme _go_!" she screams, her thick red ponytail waving and slapping him hard. He refuses, instead tickling her into submission and laying more raspberry kisses on her tummy. She laughs and laughs, tinkling little bells, and he loves her more than anything - like a ten-year-old sister, of course. And he loves her even when she's punching his head to get him to let go, and especially when she can turn the tables on him, make him the victim by hopping atop his chest and raspberry-ing his cheeks.

And she's just being Lily and he's just being Teddy, and James is never going to accept them like that, is he?


	5. roxanneoc

roxanneoc; _shoe box_

as requested by Sidsaid

.

She knows it's not the best of ideas, when she sees Randall Goyle sitting alone by the lake, his scowl on as he watches the passersby who are _ohso_not Slytherins and his black hair kind of shifting with the breeze, but then Rose fell in love with a Slytherin boy, so why can't she?

And then she thinks, well, Scorpius must be a different kind of Slytherin boy because, for all the jokes about them, he doesn't seem to dislike any of Rose's Gryffindor cousins (and especially not Slytherin Albus); but Randall's callous and crude and he's not the handsomest boy she's laid her eyes on (his face is pug-like, and chubby too), and people wonder why she chose him (even more so than why he chose her) because she's perhaps one of the most beautiful Weasley girls, all chocolate skin and corkscrew black curls and to-_die_-for blue-flecked brown eyes, but she can't even answer because _she's_ just as clueless.

But maybe she stays because Randall - when they're alone - will hold her hand, or let her borrow his scarf when she's forgotten hers, and a few times his grimace may just be a smile. And he'll do things for her too - when no one else knows it - like buy her some Honeydukes candy or little packages of such pretty jewelry with his weekly allowance, and she thinks that's what makes her stay, even if otherwise he's angry at everybody for nothing and treats her like a regular Slytherin would treat a regular Gryffindor.

It's when he breaks up with her, publicly and rudely, that she begins to think she actually did love him. Lily consoles her, all the while sneaking in I-told-you-so comments and Roxanne just calls her out – "Well, _you_ have eyes for your cousin's boyfriend, who is ten frickin' years _older_!" – and rushes in tears to her dormitory. No other girls are around, and so she sneaks the shoe box from under her bed (the one Randall bought her expensive shoes in, but told her to say it was a gift from her parents, even though everyone knows George and Angelina are not the most prosperous of the Weasley kin) and stares in at the contents: all the presents, the jewelry, the snapshots of them together or maybe just him alone. Suddenly, her heart just breaks all over again, crumbling and the leftover shards piercing her chest and stomach walls, and she leans back against her bedpost.

"Never another Slytherin." she murmurs. Rose was always luckier in love anyhow.


	6. dominiquelysanderlily

**I understand that Vic's supposed to be older than Dom, but in my head-canon Dom's two years older. So, yeah, thought I'd mention.**

lilylysanderdominique; _second_

as requested by siriusgirlstar

.

Somehow, she always ends up second.

Once upon a time, oh, yes, she was the apple of everyone's eye - the first third-generation Weasley child to be born. And that dash of Veela just helped her to shine evermore, with her long hair, so fair it was white, with ends of blue that nobody could trace, and her pale white skin that practically sparkled in the light. Effervescent and beautiful, she was _new_ and _young_ and _gorgeous_.

But then of course Victoire came along (oh, Merlin, there's _two_ now), and she was just spunkier and prettier and soon Dominique was cast off into the shadows, an old, used toy that's done with playing. And she thinks, sometimes, Victoire has stolen everything purposefully, because everyone always smiled at Dom and Teddy because they were the same age and the only children, and how _couldn't_ they be together - and she never loved Teddy more than a brother, but maybe she could've if there wasn't a white-blonde-haired, lipsticked devil hiding her horns under a halo for him.

And then, well, she finds Lysander, and sure he's a little young, but he's cute and he _gets_ it, because people ignore him because of Lorcan (but really that's just because they think he's like his twin, dreamy and starry-eyed and _ohso_clueless). He's a star for her, and once again she feels like an eye-apple for someone, which makes her go on.

But the cruel cycle continues, and Lysander trades her in for a newer model: sweet, glowing, cute (_young_) Lily, all grins and jokes and bells in her laughs. She's second, and now there are _two_ girls she has to hate, which is terrible because Vic's her _sister_ and Lily's her _cousin_, but she can't help it. Old, tired Dominique is old news, old bones, an old hag (at only nineteen).

Oh, well. Second is the best, anyway - that's what keeps her alive somedays.


	7. teddyoc

teddyoc; _playing cards_

as requested by let's-get-wasted

.

It gets to be too much pressure, with Victoire on one side of him, and Lily on the other, and every other Weasley girl in between. It's like one of those unwritten laws that he _must_ love a Weasley (or maybe a Potter), and it's not as if he doesn't find Victoire's Veela ways enticing, or Lily's red hair alluring, or Molly's hazel eyes mystifying, or Lucy's spunk enthralling, or - well, you get the picture. It's just...he wants to feel for himself.

He meets her in a Muggle pub in the middle of Scotland. He's changed his hair to a calm brown, just in case, and his clothes are a little neater (but that's just because it pays to be a good DADA teacher). She's just sitting there, black curls and brown eyes, and he finds himself thinking she's gorgeous and _new_.

Swallowing down his fright, because he hasn't learnt her ways, known her since birth, like every other beautiful girl he's known, Teddy walks over to her and grins, offering his hand. "Pardon me, miss, but you're...stunning." He catches a twinkle in her eyes and she bites her lower lip wonderingly, gazing up at him.

"Smooth, buddy," she replies, "Most men just walk up to me and try to smack my arse." His face goes red and he has to work hard at keeping his hair from turning that embarrassed magenta; but this girl stares up at him still, and there's playfulness dancing in her eyes. "By the way, I'm Jess."

He smiles. "Teddy."

He sits with her, and begins learning things about her. It's hard at first, because with Victoire and Lily and Co. he already _knew_ because he'd seen all their births, all their stages of growing up (even though Vic's and Dom's are blurry, being the eldest of them all), but then he sinks into it and _likes_ that he doesn't know. It's like - like playing cards. He doesn't know what he'll be dealt, or what cards she'll have. If she's hiding any up her sleeve from him. He doesn't _know_.

And even though he tells her goodbye and kisses her (his hair briefly flickering to yellow and purple before he can stop it), he goes back home to Vic, but just to have played that hand of cards, at least once, makes him feel a lot less pressured.


	8. victoireteddygabrielle

gabrielleteddyvictoire; _reaction_

as requested by siriusgirlstar

.

It's neither his nor Victoire's idea to meet her family. Well, Teddy's met Bill before, and don't get him wrong, he _likes_ Bill - who doesn't? - but he hasn't spoken much to her mother, and her other relatives are coming in too (zero of Bill's Weasleys to protect him, though), and he's not exactly the epitome of French gentlemanliness.

(Or really, any type of gentlemanliness.)

But they don't fix him with leering eyes when he walks in, they smile and nod and shake his hands politely - he's too stunned to say anything at first, because he's never seen so many beautiful people. He had thought Vic an exceptional beauty, and Dom as well (and Louis is considerably nice-looking, for a bloke), but to find so many people in one room with that sparkling beauty leaves him tongue-tied.

Perhaps the one that leaves him most dumbfounded is Vic's Aunt Gabrielle. He's not quite sure why, because she looks a lot like Fleur, so not very unique, but he finds his hair blushing to that magenta shade and his tongue has been swallowed accidentally as he tries to swallow down his nerve.

She smiles at him, and holds out her hand. "_Enchanté_, Teddy," she speaks, and her French is fluid and magical. "I'm Vic's _tante_, and she has spoken highly of you." He just smiles and nods, and takes her hand, and when he lays his lips on it there's electricity running through his veins and there's some sort of chemical reaction going on inside of his brain that's exploding his brain cells like teeny-tiny fireworks.

"As she does of you." He grins smoothly at her, and she giggles politely before Vic laces their fingers together and whisks him away to her grandparents, but Teddy can't help but think of that tinkling laugh and the French accent that coats her every word and it's terribly gross because she's thirty-years-old (but he's still got a thing for little Lily Luna Potter, so why should he hold himself back?)


	9. louislucy

**:] This one may be my favorite, just because I got to write Louis. *heart* This is _totally_ my guilty pleasure ship.**

lucylouis; _desire, shattered, & "I need you, all of you, forever..."_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

She's a gorgeous little firecracker, ablaze with so many different colors and popping off at any given moment in time. There's something that gnaws at him when she's around; some kind of masochistic desire rumbling in his belly as he feeds off her positivity and wit and sarcasm, and it nauseates him while it exhilarates because she's Lucy Weasley, his beautiful _cousin_.

And don't think by any means he feels _unworthy _(um, part-Veela, hel-_lo_), it's just that he's known her since they were babies, and they never got along - he was snobbish, and then she'd dunk his face in the birdbath for it (and Lily and Roxy and his sisters, even, would giggle annoyingly). But, _Salazar_, he might've been nicer to her then if he'd known how she'd be now.

But he can't do a damn thing about it because his father's her father's brother, and that makes it (deliciously) sinful, even though he thinks he'll just shatter into a billion shards of white-skinned, white-blue-haired, part-Veela boy if he doesn't get to ever kiss her. He can't, though, and he hates it because he has to see her every day in the halls and at Sunday Weasley(/Potter) suppers and even more so now that he's paired with her for his Potions project.

"Lucille," he huffs from his table during breakfast, turned around to face the Hufflepuff table behind him where she's sitting (_ohso_radiant in the light that catches her much-streaked hair - breathe, Louis). At the name she spins to face him and the laugh in her eyes is gone, replaced by malice, and her lips curl up in a sneer.

"_Never_ call me that, Louis." she says. He sighs at her (or maybe himself), and adjusts his Ravenclaw tie nervously.

"Fine, _Lucy_," he says, his face scrunching as though the nickname leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. "Really, I don't see why you'd rather be called that - Lucille is a very...beautiful French name - "

"Whatever, Lou." she replies, rolling her eyes and attempting to return to Molly's conversation, but Louis wraps his long fingers around her wrist (pale Veela skin against her tan, so, so out-of-place).

"Wait," he says, "Lucy, I - I _need_ you, _all_ of you." _Forever_, he finishes in his mind, because his words don't just refer to the trivial Potions essay due next week. She looks at him, her eyes of stormy-gray losing their frustration and gaining something that looks like a sparkle, and then she smiles.

"Sure, Lou," she says, "After my Divination class, that is." And then she turns around to talk with Molly, and he turns to talk with his friends, and he hates that feeling in his chest of excitement and anguish.


	10. dracolucy

lucydraco; _"I Still Think" by Darren Criss, forever love, castles, dragons, _&_ she doesn't believe in fairytales_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

.

She doesn't believe in fairytales; stories about dragons and knights and princes with their princesses - she hates them, just despises them, because there's nothing real about them. A dragon would burn any man to a crisp, especially if he only had a _sword._

But then she meets _him_, at the train station, and his hair is fair and his eyes the shade of stormclouds, and all those pathetic tales of princes her mother told and Molly loved come back to her because he looks like a prince. And he is a prince, the _Slytherin_ prince, and she may be a Hufflepuff but all her tendancies are silver-and-green.

She feels so secure around him because he kisses her neck lightly and whispers promises of taking her to castles high on mountain tops and travelling with her and Uncle Charlie to tame the dragons, and she believes in him because fairytales are so fake, but he's _real_ (don't be a fool, girl, he's as fake as they come).

She kisses his knuckles one by one, and tells him how she wants this to be forever love, but she's just a girl and he's a _man_, and there's one knuckle she can't kiss because there's a wedding ring on it. And it kills her, shoots to her core and explodes from there, when she sings her that Muggle song because she thinks it may just be a big lie, that he still thinks he's in love with her, but it can't be because she never believed in fairytales (but she's always hoped for love).

So Lucy doesn't believe in fairytales; but she believes in heartbreak.


	11. mollylysander

lysandermolly; _home_

as requested by what stars are

.

She's never really had the best home life. Her mother's a resistant Muggle bitch, her father's uptight and snooty (and the least-liked Weasley of them all), and Lucy gets _everything_, even though she pushes it all away. Molly's just the secondhand sister, with the overused name and the tight-lipped smile, and that never gets her anyplace.

It all pretty much sucks, and she wants to escape it, but she can't just run off with a rucksack over her shoulder - she still has two more years of school to survive, and Lucy's still her baby sister, even if she hates her some of the time, and she can't leave her alone in _that_ house. It's all too hard, because she can't run away but she can't stay put. She can't do _anything_.

She only feels okay when she's around Lysander. She can't explain it; he's crass and loud, arrogant too, but his hands are warm around hers and he tells her she's pretty (Lucy's the _real_ pretty one, though) and when she looks into his stormcloud-gray eyes she sees home. She sees hope, and happiness, and love, and with him it's all alright for a moment. There's no bitchy mother who forbids magic in the household, no cross and untrustworthy father, no perfect Lucy who gets all the attention. There's Molly and there's Lysander, and that's all she could ever need to feel at home.


	12. mollylysander 2

mollylysander; _break away_

as requested by n a r r o w s k i e s

.

They're the epitome of perfection, aren't they, with their intertwined fingers and rainbow smiles. He's dreamy and she's witty, he's sweet and she's strong. Together they're that average love story, together forever; if they were to ever be apart, the universe would have nothing to balance on, because their hands together are the string that keeps everything stable and right in the world.

Screw them.

It's always about the Lorcan & Lucy, in their love and greatness. Their siblings take the backseat, arms and legs crossed, as they strut out into the world to shine with his elderberry-dark eyes and speak with her humor-soaked tongue. And it's not like they're the ugly ducklings in the family (_au contraire_, as Aunt Fleur would say), because she can get any boy with her hazel eyes and long red lashes, and he can get any girl with his charisma and golden, rapscallion curls; but Lorcan and Lucy have love already, so _pure and angelic_, and how could that ever be beaten by the amount of paper hearts in_ their_ pockets?

When there's a new couple in town, Lysander and Molly know they can't ever match their siblings' success, so they go the opposite direction and break away from all the premade stereotypes they've been expected to live up to and just go on like themselves, only together now.

He's crude and she's bitchy, he's sarcastic and she's sexy, and they'll never equal perfection but, to hell with it, because the Lysander & Molly is all they're ever going to live up to, and that's just fine with them.


	13. louisochugo

**yeah, i just _had _to add a little LouisLucy in there. :] i think they're my nextgen otp actually...**

hugooclouis; _rainbow, glitter, _&_"Don't lie to me..."_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

.

It's commom knowledge that Jasmine Finnegan is a bitch, and she'll never give scrawny boys like Hugo Weasley a shot.

(But secretly he sees her smile rainbows for him, and her teeth glitter brightly against his.)

It's common knowledge that Louis Weasley is a prat, and those are the only guys bitches go for.

(But secretly they're both decieving the other, because she's holding Hugo's hand under the Gryffindor table and he's having impure thoughts about his cousin Lucy.)

It's common knowledge that Louis Weasley is the most beautiful boy to grace the halls of Hogwarts and Jasmine Finnegan definately not the most beautiful girl.

(But secretly he finds her beautiful, when her face is hidden by shadows so he can only judge her beauty by the honey in her voice and the gentleness in her fingers as they curl around his.)

It's common knowledge that Hugo Weasley means nothing to Jasmine Finnegan.

(But secretly he means the world, and he'd lasso the moon for her too.)

It's common knowledge that Hugo Weasley always tells the truth.

(But secretly Louis pins him against the wall, hisses _don't lie to me_, and he does.)

_[We all have our s e c r e t s.]_


	14. lorcanlucy

lucylorcan; _dimming star_

as requested by what stars are

.

She comes from a family from outer space, because they've got suns and moons and stars and supernovas everywhere. The ones that burn, like Victoire; the ones that glow, like Roxanne; the ones that shine, like Rose; and the ones who (_positively_) blaze, like Lily Luna.

But Lucy destroys, so she's a black hole.

She's sardonic and twisted, her tongue sharp enough to slice a knife in two and her hair is brown and blonde and red and black and blue and anything it _could_ be, depending on what she decides for the day. Her touch is the devil's fingertips, as she trails it along faces and hips and lips, burning everything down before her. It's such a shock that she's _Hufflepuff_, because some days he swears she's part-snake.

She used to be a star, glowing and shining in the little Weasley/Potter cosmos of her family, but too many girls came along and too many boys looked away, so her light dimmed. And she's still that dimming star, because even though her heart is black and sucks in everything hopelessly, she still _has_ one, so she's not _too_ far gone yet.

"You're different." she states one day randomly, as they lay by the lake so he can possibly spot the Giant Squid (he's always add this keen fascination with animals), and he can only smile dreamily because he's been told that his whole life.

"As are you." he replies, in that odd language of his. She rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and her blue-yellow-green-red-what_ever_ curls bounce about.

"_No_," she says firmly, "I _mean_, you never visit me just to make out. You always wanna, like, _talk_ n' stuff - "

"I like talking with you." he answers honestly. "Your opinion is interesting to hear - even if you do think Nargles are...what's that word you used?"

"Crap." She smiles, and then he's smiling, even if he's not entirely sure why because it's just a simple Muggle word, but then her smiles are so rare and so pure in between smirks and scowls that he can't help but cherish when they arrive. It reminds him she's still a girl, with just a _little_ too much ambition and sarcasm for her own good, and her light gets just a _little_ brighter, her self just a _little_ stronger, every day he can make her smile.


	15. lilylouishugo

hugolouislily; _bend, fire _& _stars in the sky_

as requested by BlueEyes444

They're both the most alike in their family, at least by looks. Red hair, green eyes, freckles everywhere and half-smiles.

But upon closer inspection, you see his hair is more of a dull orange and his smile half because he has nothing to smile at. Lily, however - dear Lily, with her ablaze, her hair so bright and red it's like fire. And those smiles are sliced in half because, even with the red-hot hair, she's cold to the touch and she can burn you to a crisp with a single look.

And that's what makes them different. That's what makes one better than the other.

He sees the way Louis looks at her - with that animal hunger, and she teases him with short skirts and innuendos in their conversations. Because when it comes to Lily Luna Potter, men will always be bending to her will, comparing the stars in the sky to the many in her eyes. And Hugo - he'll never amount to her, especially in Louis's eyes.


	16. jamesjennyalbus

**a/n: this one is for Jenny (inescapable scars) from when everyone was pairing themselves up :D. Hope you like it!**

albusjennyjames; _fantastical_

as requested by inescapable scars

She's just this fantastical girl, because she laughs so loud at his bad jokes and wears pretty blue sundresses and flip-flops and splashes him in the pool and reads these amazing books in the time it takes him to brush his teeth, and there are so, so many good points to her he can name, even if she's just a Muggle girl.

But the only problem is, you see, is she's _James'_ Muggle girl.

And he's just the irritating little brother who'll never be more than that. She laughs at his jokes, but that's because she has to humor him - she wears these pretty dresses, but _yellow's_ his favorite color (blue is James') - she splashes him in her backyard pool because James tells her too - she reads those books because, oh, your brother told me about this Nicholas Sparks person, James, and aren't his characters just like _us_?

He loves her so much and it's so unhealthy because _James_ gets to kiss her under the light of the moon, _James_ gets to be the subject in all her photographs, _James_ gets to hear about all the magic of the Muggle world, and Albus gets to understand what all those blokes in those crummy romance novels feel when the girl chooses the (wrong) other guy.


	17. jamesocfred

**a/n: I'm pretty the only person who would understand this OC is Mad. But otherwise, I hope you still enjoy it!**

fredocjames; _feature_

as requested by inescapable scars

Every feature of hers radiates with beauty: from the ocean eyes to the chestnut hair; from the slender fingers to the long legs; from the silver eyebrow piercing to the black nail polish; from the sarcastic smirk to the clenched teeth. She is a jewel in every way, a pearl, a ruby, a jade. And he loves her, loves her with everything he has, but the truth is, she doesn't even know him.

To her, he's just a character in a fairytale book. She doesn't know he's real, she doesn't know the story's real. She doesn't know his father really did fight; she doesn't know all those people really did die; she doesn't know he's more than an inked specimen of a creative woman's mind.

But Fred's real, isn't he - he's real because he doesn't tell her. He's real because he pretends, pretends he's just an average Muggle boy with freckles and red hair and prankster tendancies. But _he's_ not real to her, because she's heard his name and thinks it's a joke.

But even if she thinks he's just some storybook character, his feelings for her are more than two-dimensional.


	18. scorpiusdominique

dominiquescorpius; _bookstore _& _capital letters_

as requested by Kats in socks

He meets her again in a Muggle bookstore, and he knows it's her from the gangliness and the white-blue hair that seems to glitter in the dim lighting. He watches her slender fingers as they trace the words on the yellowing pages, watches her lips curve around the whispered incantations of the paragraphs. And he smiles to himself, because she hasn't changed at all - she's just added an inch to her height and sustracted one from her waist, but all in all she's still that innocent beauty with the ice-blue eyes and the bright white smile, that he never got to touch because she was eight years older and Rose was meant to be his from the start anyway.

"You gonna buy that book there?" he says to her, and she jumps, but then when she sees him he can tell she remembers too because her mouth cricks upwards and her eyes twinkle.

"Why, if it isn't little Scorpy Malfoy," she giggles, reaching out one hand to ruffle his hair - but he's anything but little now, he's filled out and stronger and he can almost reach her height now - almost.

And they talk for a long time but not long enough for with her, forever lasts a minute because for the whole time nothing processes because he's just soaking in the beauty that he can't touch, can't feel, can't kiss.

After awhile, she kisses him on the cheek as a goodbye (damned French with their mixed signals) and turns to leave, and it's only when he catches something on her back as her shirt rides up - a name in capital letters sewn into white skin - that he lets this goodbye make him smile.


	19. jameslucy

lucyjames; _"And this is right how?" _& _"I never said this is 'right'; I did say it's sexy."_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

It hurts the way she kisses him, with enough passion but not enough feeling, and it's very wrong but it's _something_ - something he can hold onto, something (someone) he can claim as his.

But the truth is, she's not his, won't ever be - she'll just be a lend all the time.

He watches her from across the room as she knots her tie together - he almost wants to laugh, because she's Hufflepuff but she's so devious and he's Gryffindor but he's such a coward. He watches her pale fingers loop the tie around her neck, watches her hair - limp and ragged from so many inconsistent dye jobs, and yet still so pretty - fall to hide her face, watches her jerky body movements as she tries to stay quiet so no one will find them.

One more knot, and she's done. He licks his lips. "This is bad. You and me."

She faces him, and her smirk sends chills up his spine. "'You and _I_,' Mr. Head Boy," she says, "And, well, that's life."

He sits up in her bed, careful to keep the sheets covering him, even though he's exposed himself too much already. "And this is right how?"

She sighs, staring at him, and her brown eyes seem to see straight into him. He looks away. "I never said this is right; I did say it's sexy."

"Yeah, sexy, until we get caught." he whispers. He looks back at her when he hears rustling, and she's inches from his face again, her fingers gingerly touching his face.

"Then we won't get caught." she mumbles, and kisses him like nothing.

And then it all starts over again, her lips with his, all the while guilt interrupting the joy between them, and sure, she's sexy and it feels good, but it'll never be right because of who they are and what they are to each other.


	20. jameslucyalbus

albuslucyjames; _supernova, starlight _&_ "help me."_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

It's her eyes that betray her.

That sultry brown, covered by a thin layer of ice that masks her fears, her wants, her memories, so people can only see the seductive beauty of them and be pulled in by it. And it's not like she's a bad girl who wants the life of a heartbreaker, stealing into different boys' hearts and letting them touch but never more than that. She's just beautiful like that, and it's a curse, she knows, but that ice is the only thing protecting her from heart-breaking boys.

But it's hard when the both of them are giving her those tempting smiles, those hopeless looks, and so maybejustthisonce she'll have a little _fun_.

It's not (that much) fun, though, it's cruel to toy with them, brothers to each other (cousins to her), and she doesn't like to do things like this - this is Vic's forte, stringing boys along, and _she_ can do that because she'll always have _at least one_. If anyone found out about her, them - she wouldn't have anyone.

Albus is gentle, soothing - he whispers sweet things to her, calls her his darling supernova and promises to love her when nobody else will. She needs someone like that, someone who'll be her hero and protect her from harm.

James is rough, passionate - he trails his fingers along her sides, breathes into her ear that she's his firecracker, sizzling and burning for him only. She needs someone like that, too, someone who'll never let the flame die and will love her until her bones break.

She needs someone like both of them, and she's not so sure if she can accomplish that - it's what makes her cry at night, what makes her look to the skies and shout "help me" to the moon, as if it could. And then she'll turn around, and it could be Al _or_ James grinning back at her, falling in love with those eyes that glitter in the starlight and hide her secrecy.

(But not for long, because that ice is thin, remember, and soon enough it's going to crack and those boys are going to fall in and see the lies.

Just not tonight, babes, just not tonight.)


	21. lucyhugo

**a/n: I've been on such a Lucy spree :P I bet she wants me to leave her alone by now.**

hugolucy; _"in a different place, in a different time, you might have been mine" _& _honey_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

He likes her running her hands through his hair. He likes her telling him how pretty it is, how well-groomed he keeps it. He likes her own hair falling over his forehead when she kisses it, splayed over his face. He likes the colors of her hair, how they never stay the same and how they're never _normal_ colors. He likes the blues and the reds, the yellows and the purples, the greens and the pinks.

But what he really likes is those times - those times when she's taking a shower, and the dye slips through her curls and into the drain - where her hair isn't bombarded with so many stimulating colors and is just that natural honey shade. She despises it, despises how _ordinary_ it looks, especially in a family where any hair with a hint of orange is unoriginal, but as she blow-dries it for the next dye job he whispers how beautiful it looks.

She'll turn to him, and she'll smile, whisper "Yours ain't half-bad, kid" and wink, which makes him just want to melt right there before her.

But it's when she sets the dryer and he loops his arms around her waist that she jerks away, and her grin is lost behind her curtain of damp honey hair and she says "No, Hugo," that he doesn't like because then reality hits - the reality that the two of them are sick and wrong, that they're cousins, that he's fourteen and she's seventeen, that timid boys like Hugo don't mix with fast and furious girls like Lucy.

"C'mon, Luce," he says, holding his hands out in surrender, "not now. Please." And her eyes flicker, those eyes of brown that tie him down and beat him up. And she bites her lip in that way that sends his insides into a frenzy, and fleetingly he thinks she may just stop it all right then and there.

Instead she shakes her head, like every time, and smiles sadly at him, Lorcan's purity ring glinting in the dim light of the bathroom lamp, before she says, "Oh, kid. In a different place, in a different time, you might have been mine." And she clenches the hand with the ring into a fist before shooing him out, which she doesn't have to do because he's been through this dozens of times to know when it's his cue to leave. And it only hurts more when she locks the bathroom door behind her, because then he knows - with the sound of the faucet on full-blast to disguise her tears - that's he's destroying the strongest of all the Weasley girls from the inside out by loving her too much.


	22. lucy weasley

lucy; _never ending_

as requested by what stars are

She thinks her whole life is like a dance, filled with twists and turns, spins and leaps. A never-ending dance on tiptoes, careful to stick to the choregraphy so she doesn't slip up.

It used to be easy, because she could just take Molly's hand and drag her outside where they could play and get dirty and forget, could just whisper maps of buried treasure in Lily's ear so she'd be ready with a shovel, could just wrestle with James until she was sitting on his back with him screaming uncle beneath.

But now she's older, sixteen, and nothing's easy. There's the pressure of her studies, of Lorcan and if she should go with him to Romania, of what she wants to do with her life now that it's more than just boys and tests and Quidditch. There's the pressure of her father being under the ever-watchful eyes of her grandparents and uncles and aunts that she was oblivious to before she knew why, of her mother's resistance to magic and attempts to turn them to the Muggle world.

And this routine she's been dancing her whole life is starting to get rougher and her feet can't handle it anymore - sooner or later she's going to have to stop, and she's afraid of what'll happen when she's done.


	23. dominiqueteddy

teddydominique; _"maybe this time."_

as requested by 13dramaqueen13

.

"Sleep well?" she asks him, her slender fingers curled around a mug of hot coffee and white-blue hair tied up in a bun. She looks like a mess, without her makeup on and bedhead and her hair flying in several different directions, but she's Dominique, so even when a mess she's beautiful.

He almost smiles at that one, crossing the kitchen of her flat with his suit already on, tie knotted and hair calmed to brown. Instead he hides his face in a breakfast muffin, chewing at the corner of a blueberry with so much intensity it's like his life depends on it.

"Thanks for..." he begins, stops himself as her smile quirks sadly and she takes an apprehensive gulp of coffee. "Letting me spend the night. Yeah. Thanks." He thinks that's as good a save as any.

He rolls the muffin around in his hand a moment before saying "I'll be off then," and reaching to the counter for his briefcase, but her fingertips land on his wrist. They send a chill up his spine, still warm from holding the mug, and it's a struggle not to look at her - but in the end he does, and her ice-blue eyes are choking him suddenly.

"Teddy," she whispers, "maybe this time - "

"I have work, Dom." he interrupts her, sliding easily from under her touch with his briefcase and her muffin. "I'm sorry." And then he Apparates out of her flat, and she's left caressing thin air and the remnants of a sentence on her tongue.

_Maybe this time you can stay._


	24. jamesscorpius

scorpiusjames; _hush_

as requested by Her. Royal. Cheesyness

.

Hush, little darling, don't say a word.

Don't fight the current, darling, it'll only pull you in faster. You might as well give in, because there's no way you're getting out of this. You're waist-deep in him now, darling, him with his auburn curls and brown eyes and heart-melting smirks, the brother of your _best friend_, the cousin of your _girlfriend_.

Oh, but since when has _loyalty_ meant a thing to you, darling little Scorpius Malfoy? Your father was a traitor to his cause for not carrying out his duties, your mother was a traitor to your aunt for marrying her first crush, and your ancestors are all the same, so what chance did you have?

You may as well let him whisper those names in your ear and let his hands map countries on your body because this kind of treachery is what you're doomed for anyway - may as well enjoy it while you can, darling.


	25. albuslucy

lucyalbus (with implications of mollyjames & hugolily); _"You make me weak," "I want you," _& _forever love_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

.

Lucy Weasley is never a second choice to anybody.

It's not that she has to be everyone's first choice - just not anyone's second. She can't let Lysander hold her as she stains his collarbone with lipstick while he's giving her sister googly-eyes, and she can't let Scorpius eye that short skirt that shows off her legs while his arm is slung around Rose, and she can't let Albus date that Longbottom girl while he's always ready to give into temptation.

The looks between them aren't subtle, those looks of feverish want at family dinners, when their fingertips meet as he passes her a roll or as her thigh grazes his as she scoots in next to him. She wonders how their parents don't see it (or maybe they do, and choose to ignore), but she couldn't care less because whether they're oblivious or pretending, she knows this kind of thing has happened before - she's heard Molly moan James' name some nights, and smelt Lily's perfume all over Hugo.

"Stop," he whispers when she finds him in her dad's old room, looking for a spare shirt as his is stained with meatball sauce, and from the moment she sees him shirtless it all goes downhill. "You make me weak," he cries at her, but he has the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I want you." she moans into his throat, scratching at him, clawing at him. "Get rid of that Jodi girl, Al - and come chase _me_."

And then he gives her this look that makes her heart fall out of her mouth and her intenstines twist up - that look of pure innocence and befuddlement that reminds her it doesn't matter that he wants her too or even that he's her cousin; it reminds her he's _Albus Severus Potter_, and he's innocent and quiet and shy and Lucy Weasley is anything but - Lucy Weasley is the devil personified, and she is ruining him.

He's the boy who desires forever love, romantic nights spent holding hands and taking boat rides on the lake - she's the girl who desires hot passion, romantic nights spent under the sheets with fresh bottles of wine always in the cooler.

But she knows he'll always be looking at her like _this_, but he'll always be looking at Jodi Longbottom like _that_, and knowing she's secondhand, second choice will kill her more.


	26. lilylysander

lysanderlily; _fight, end, _& _angelic_

as requested by Kats in socks

.

They're both attention hogs - her with her proud green-and-silver wardrobe and unicorn ankle tattoo, him with his curse-soaked tongue and great guitar-playing skills. They fight for the limelight constantly, one against the other, her spite against his smoothness. It's a battle to the death, until in the end one of them gets the glorious success of attention and the other has to sit in the shadow.

They're nothing that's considered angelic, with the hair-pulling and teeth-clenching and fight-provoking conversations, but he can't resist her inked skin and the way it feels under his hands, and she can't say no to a musician, especially one as edgy as him.

So they're going to fight regardless - sometimes it might just be in the bedroom.


	27. roxannelysander

lysanderroxanne; _seaside, sunshine, _& _promise_

as requested by 13dramaqueen13

.

She's like the seaside, calming and tranquil, a perfect place to go when everything gets to be too much. She'll coax you to her, and comfort you in your time of need, but if you stay too long the tide will come up and sweep you away, into her and away from anything else that mattered before.

He's like the sunshine, bright and dazzling, bearing down on you from above. He can be joyful after a long winter or evil in the middle of summer, when the sun is something you learn to despise. It's really just the flip of the coin, the roll of the dice, that determines which he'll be - and before you can decide, he's gone, replaced by the velvet navy night, and you have to wait to find him again because he's too impatient to stay in one place for too long.

They go together well, and yet horribly at the same time, because he's always on the go and she stays in her one spot, always there and never going anyplace. And they're almost a tragedy that way, but he kisses her and she holds him and they promise they'll always be there for each other, even when they're apart. And he knows he can trust her to keep that promise - she's just not sure if she can trust him.


	28. lucyteddyroxanne

roxanneteddylucy; _heartbreak is easy_

as requested by fabricated fantasties

.

It's pretty predictable _he's_ the one swept up in this mess.

It could've been platinum-haired Malfoy, or spacey Lorcan, or cocky Lysander, just as easily, he likes to think - but the truth is deeper than that, because they're boys and he's a man, and he's been around much longer to wedge himself into the Weasley girls' hearts and and stay longer than welcomed.

And it's just a roll of the dice that it's the two of them - the rock, Roxanne, and the hard place, Lucy - who close in on him and suffocate him with so much pain it's hard to breathe.

He can't choose between them either, because they're both so alike - Lucy, with her hair that changes color faster than his, who jokes about his looks and his behavior like some American insult comic, and Roxanne, with her shiny black eyes and dimpled cheeks, who plays jokes on him day in and day out. They're competitive and quarrelsome and funny and _soso_ lovely and Teddy doesn't think his heart can take this abuse anymore - he needs to choose Victoire and rid himself of these two, who are still in school while he's about to be a first-time father thanks to his wife.

He doesn't want to screw that up either, raising a boy with the idea that lying is okay, cheating is nothing, and heartbreak is easy. Because the one who may end up the most broken out of all of them may just be him.


	29. fredlucy

lucyfred; _"This Bitter Pill" by Dashboard Confessional_

as requested by Vanity Sinning Starship Ranger

.

She's a bit hard to swallow, is Lucy.

He doesn't think he'd ever realized just how hard she is to deal with - as kids she'd always been fun, spunky and mad and haphazard, a whirlwind of rainbow hair and crazed eyes. Her wildness was equivalent to his and Roxanne's put together, something almost unimaginable - but now all that wildness has gone from something admirable to something despised, because she never shuts down. She's always on the move, jumping and spinning, screaming and yelling - at least he can turn off once in a while, but not Lucy. She doesn't have an off button.

And sometimes that craziness isn't always good; sometimes she's angry, and everything blows up so suddenly he gets whiplash before she's back to smiling and running around and being generally nuts.

She's a bitter pill, and Fred is afraid to swallow, because she may just choke him.


	30. scorpiusdominique 2

scorpiusdominique; _ethereal_

as requested by Renzhie

.

When he sees her, he's not sure if he's alive or not - because Dominique Weasley is like an angel, with white-blue waves of hair and glittery blue eyes of ice, and that smile of hers blinds him because it's ethereal, all of her, that he can hardly believe she's not an angel and he's not in heaven.

(Even though he's pretty sure if he were dead, he'd be seeing a completely different setting.)

But the thing is, Dominique is _eight years older _than Scorpius Malfoy, and even if she wasn't he doesn't deserve her because she's sweet and caring and he's a hard chunk of ice, cunning and calculating and cold to the touch.

When she touches him, though, _dear god_, it's like he's been hit by a truck and she _knows_ that, so she touches him a little more and shows off her long legs and perky boobs and shinyshiny eyes every chance she gets because she's a little messed up herself, and falling for her (_much_) younger cousin's boyfriend is something she knows she shouldn't be doing - but she can't help herself.

And this _thing_ between them, this _whatever_, is going to kill them both in the end.


	31. roselysander

lysanderrose; _"get your head out of the clouds."_

as requested by Anonymity Effect

.

She gets lost all the time - on the way to Gryffindor Tower, to Potions, to the Great Hall. But mostly, she gets lost in all those books.

It's quite easy to do, to open one up and transport yourself into another world with scaly dragons and gallant knights, one-eyed pirates and flying young boys - he calls her mad for it, for wanting a world other than her own, but he just doesn't understand her - not the way those books do anyway.

"Get your head out of the clouds, Rose," he demands of her, "and have some _real_ fun." She ignores him, per usual, licking her thumb and turning a page.

"Get yours out of your arse and I might," she says, "but what chance is there of _that_ happening?"

It's one of the hardest challenges in the world to pry Rose Weasley from the confines of a book, and for some asinine reason, Lysander Scamander can't stop trying to.


	32. roselorcan

lorcanrose; _bed & breakfast_

as requested by inherhappyhermitland

.

He brings out something in her, the dreamer boy.

Without him, she's just little Rose Weasley, brightest witch of her age with the biggest temper. Rose with the rosy cheeks and fire-red hair, Rose with the freckles dotting her face and the blue eyes roaming pages of textbooks. Rose with the famous parents, Rose with the brain, just plain old Rose.

But with him, she is Rose Weasley, larger than life. Rose with her hair splayed down her back and eyes sparkling with adventure, Rose with the gin-soaked tongue and writhing body on a dancefloor. Rose who ends up with Lorcan under the covers at a bed & breakfast on their first date, Rose with her cousin's boyfriend, just wild, crazy Rose.

She's not quite sure if she should enjoy the way one smile of his alters her personality so drastically, but whenever he does smile everything else fades to black and textbooks are far behind - all that she sees, everything that she sees, is a boy with spacey eyes and a charming smile who could murder her in her sleep and she'd still love him to death.

**a/n: man...I don't even _like_ Rose :P**


	33. fleurteddy

teddyfleur; _it's complicated_

as requested by siriusgirlstar

.

"Teddy, why won't you come over to my place?"

"Teddy, why won't you sit next to my mum at supper?"

"Teddy, why won't you talk to my mum?"

"It's...complicated."

It's the only answer he can give when her mum is brushing past him so their bare skin meets or tempting him with those electric blue eyes - it's Victoire's skin, they're Victoire's eyes, he tries to tell himself. She's nothing more than an older Vic, he tells himself, but there's more to it than that.

Because Victoire doesn't have that cute accent like Fleur does; she doesn't have womanly curves like Fleur does; she doesn't have experience on her side like Fleur does. Fleur is magic personified, everything beautiful wrapped into one ethereal being, and Victoire is merely a fraction of that - she can't compete with her mother, the one half Veela to her part.

It would be easier, he thinks, if he could've fallen in love with Dominique - it'd be easier to tell Victoire he's in love with her sister.

But it's complicated. Because it's her _mother_.


	34. lorcanlucy 2

lorcanlucy; _fairy lights_

as requested by behind these ocean eyes

.

It's hard.

Oh, how fricking hard it is.

She doesn't know what to do anymore; her family is being torn apart at the seams, with her magic-hating Muggle mother and her father, whose never been a family man, and her perfectionistic sister who just _has _to go and run off with Lysander when Lucy needs her most.

She wants to run. She wants to pack up her things and burst through that door, away from the smashed china and piling divorce papers, from the wands snapped like twigs and the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stuffed into the garbage because they're "too dangerous." She wants to find Molly's hand in the darkness, have her treat her like the fragile little baby she once was. She wants to curl up in her older sister's arms and cry like never before.

But she can only sit in that house with those insufferable people, chained to the family she hates like a bird in a cage, its wings clipped, its beak taped shut.

So she builds her walls up higher, dyes her hair darker, and shuts herself away in her dorm where she can't hear the rumors closing in on her, can't hear the fighting, the swearing, the snickers, the taunts. Where it's just her, alone and lonely.

Or sometimes, just her, and _him_.

That Ravenclaw boy that looks so much like the one that took her sister, her only confidant, away. That boy with the quirky smile and clasped hands, who looks at her like she's special and touches her like she's glass. She could love him, if she let herself - if she could find the key that fits into her locked heart and give it to him. But it's lost amongst the debris that clutters her soul.

"Follow the fairy lights." he whispers to her one night, through her thicket of multi-colored hair. She doesn't know what he means - never does, because Lorcan Scamander is just like his mum: _a nutjob_ - but he slips his hand in hers and takes her away.

They walk. And they walk. They walk through the corridors, past the empty classrooms, through the doors. They walk toward the edge of the glittering lake, with the tentacles of the Giant Squid leaping into the air. They walk near to the forest, where Lucy sees little specks of blue and pink and purple light. They walk beside the lights, into the forest, without a care. They walk, walk, walk, until the balls of light are suspended from the air above them, sparkling with fairy dust that falls and lands on the bridge of her nose, outlining her freckles and glowing against her skin.

"Lorcan, what is this place?" she asks, but he just grabs her and kisses her softly, and she thinks she may hear tinkling laughs coming from around them, little giggles of little fairies, but Lorcan is what she focuses on - Lorcan, the boy that was there when her father wasn't, her mother wasn't, her sister wasn't. The boy that's still here, that's kissing her, that's led her to this mystical place.

She kisses him back, runs her fingers through his dust-speckled hair, and smiles. Because for once, it's easy.

**a/n: okay, i have to say, i _really_ like this one :D**


	35. lilyteddy 2

teddylily; _burn, baby, burn_

as requested by lonely hands

.

He's come to learn Lily Luna Potter is nothing short of extraordinary.

She shines with her fiery hair and emerald green eyes and tantalizing smile, with the swing of her hips and her perky breasts and swear word-filled vocabulary. She is a winner in everything - she wins because that makes her _shine_.

But then he kisses her - _just that one time, on New Year's Eve_ - and suddenly she doesn't shine; she _burns_.

(_burn, baby, burn_.)

She's fizzling out, burning herslf to the core - her hair is dull and her eyes are shut and she doesn't smile. She doesn't strut and she doesn't care about her appearence and doesn't even talk. And it hurts because it's his stupid lips' fault - his lips and their temptation at the sight of pink lipgloss - _just one time, just one time_ - _burn, baby, burn_.


	36. lilyhugo

lilyhugo; _dictionary_

as requested by 13dramaqueen13

.

He'd have to look in a dictionary to find the words to describe Lily Luna Potter.

No, they'd have to write a _new dictionary_ to find the words to describe Lily Luna Potter.

She is a spitfire, running up and down walls, flinging hexes like nothing. She is fearless, haughty, Slytherin to the core even as she wears that Gryffindor tie around her neck.

And he thinks he may just love her in all her unnameable glory.


	37. scorpiuslucy

scorpiuslucy; _daydreamer_

as requested by behind these ocean eyes

.

To Lucy, there is no greater punishment than sitting still.

She's no daydreamer, lost in thoughts and feelings - she's a go-getter, passionate and crazy and active. She doesn't sit down or lay around like Molly, who's always stuck in her novels, as quiet and invisible as she can be. She gets out there and she gets the job done, and she doesn't rely on anybody.

Except, when it comes to Scorpius, some things change.

There's no need to rush around him, no need to talk to fill the painful void or run away to escape the pressure - all there is, is them in their little bubble, with her asleep in his strong arms as he reads a book with his free hand. All there is, is the soft breathing of hers blowing over the blonde tendrils of his hair as they lay on his neck. All there is, is the silence between them that speaks volumes.

The silence that speaks _I love you_.

**a/n: i hate lucyscorp. and yet i wrote this :P and liked it. damn.**


	38. louisroxanne

roxannelouis; _mortal_

as requested by BlueEyes444

.

It's times like these when she knows he can't be a mortal.

Times like these where their skin touches, chestnut brown on snow white, and those bursts of electricity zing through her bloodstream, where he lays his mouth over her neck, sucking gently and placing tender kisses along her collarbone. His touch with slender fingers is alien, forbidden, so calm and calculated; his eyes are a fierce blue in the candlelight, flames licking at the pupils, making him come alive.

He's so different and so smooth that she thinks there's no way he's just a boy, no way he's just a human - she thinks he must be something else, something from somewhere magical, more magical than Hogwarts or Hogsmeade - somewhere where angels live with their silken skin, their eyes of ice, their white-blue hair that glitters whenever it moves.

And Roxanne, she's pretty different too - wild black curls amongst redheads, chocolate skin amongst white - but she's nothing compared to him, Louis Weasley, angel in disguise.

**a/n: :3**


	39. gabriellelunalily

lilylunagabrielle; _white_

as requested by BlueEyes444

Luna wears yellow at her wedding.

"White is for virgins," Gabrielle whispers into the shell of her pale ear, fingers leaving goose pimples along her ghostly flesh.

"That ship has sailed, Auntie Luna." Lily growls, red hair like fire as it intermingles with Lovegood blonde and Delacour platinum.

She doesn't know how it's come to this, this sinful life of crossing lines and whispering in the dark. Lily is Ginny's daughter, and Gabrielle Lily's aunt, so this is just all varieties of wrong - and yet, as her nails scratch the bruises Rolf's painted on her skin, she thinks it may be the only thing that's right anymore.


	40. parvatialbusblaise

blaisealbusparvati; _whimsical_

as requested by not-gonna-grow-up

They're a rather famous couple around Hogwarts, for defying stereotypes, for going against the norm. He's cockily Slytherin and she's a dedicated Gryffindor, and even though they get many looks, they don't seem to care anymore. They're happy together, and there's nothing that could tear them apart.

Except, maybe, a whimsical boy that reeks of youth and glitters green and silver.

He doesn't mean to; he doesn't even know how or why it happens, but soon her hair is in his fists and his fingers are gliding over her skin, mapping countries on her body. And then on whatever nights she's resting, he and her husband are together, crashing and colliding.

And he feels so dirty, so disgusting, and he's supposed to be a good person, an obedient person, and now he's no better than the slutty Slytherins who parade around his dorm.

(In fact, he's worse.)

**a/n: too short and completely horrible, blah.**


	41. lucyjamesdominique

dominiquejameslucy; _satin_

as requested by intersections

He's the son of a hero.

A hero with scars to prove it and world-weary green eyes that scan souls so powerfully; a man in a boy's body once, now a boy trapped in a man's.

He's named after two: a hero who got the girl and died for his son, and a hero who was the best friend anyone could have.

But James Sirius Potter is nothing more than a smirking, horrible villian.

He's been taught to be valiant, to be noble and brave like any true Gryffindor. But he's just a coward, because he can't bring himself to choose between two girls who he doesn't even deserve.

Lucy, her waterfall of rainbow hair tangled in his fingers, eyes whirlpools that suck him in and drown his common sense. She's crazy and wild and pretty and he lo -

The, Dominique, satin skin smooth beneath his touch, smile bright with perfect teeth. She's beautiful and sweet and charming and he lo -

Lucy. Dominique. Lucy. Dominique.

It's like a never-ending dance, him being twirled left and right along the dancefloor, switching partners effortlessly and uncaringly. He wants Lu - no, he wants Dom - no, no, no. _No._

Soon it all crams together, .

All he can bring himself to understand in this whirlwind chaos he's somehow been roped into is that heroes don't do the things he does.


	42. jamesvictoire

victoirejames; _swing_

as requested by intersections

James Sirius Potter doesn't do love.

But lust is his specialty.

It's all in the swing of her hips, the sparkle of her eyes, the soft porcelain of her skin. It's what invades his thoughts and arouses his soul, and fuels the fire as he stands before her in a room, alone, with her sultry smirk plastered across that glittery white face until their clothes are piled atop one another and he's got his fingers knotted in her hair.

He's hopelessly, helplessly desperately in lust with his cousin Victoire, and it's only because she sways her hips so temptingly and licks her lips so sexily.

(He doesn't admit that the way she laughs when she's happy gives him a fluttery feeling, or that hearing about her day is the best part of his, because that sounds dangerously like _love_.)

And James Sirius Potter doesn't do love.


	43. lysanderlucy

lucylysander; _at the edge of the earth_

as requested by breathtakingly

He's always gone for sweet little Molly, with the dorky glasses and the books shoved under her arms, because she calmed him, balanced him out. She was pretty beneath the spectacles, charming beneath the Muggle braces, and with her everything could just stop and stay awhile.

But, you see, there's this little problem, with Molly: her sister is Lucy, and he's kind of in love with her too.

Because while Molly is soft and quiet, Lucy is his counterpart, crazy and wild and loud. She brings out his inner self better than anybody, drags the animal from its cage and threatens him with such temptation as flying colored hair and sparkly screw-me brown eyes that make his heart eat him alive.

But this - this is _Lucy_, and she and Lysander are too alike to be compatible. They'd rip and tear each other apart, topple atop one another like savage beasts, rolling around and dancing a savage dance until they're at the edge of the earth, holding onto each other for dear life because if they let go, dear god, they'd tumble off the face of the earth, into the vast unknown reaches of space.

Still though, he sees her scowling, smirking, with her blue-and-red-and-purple-and-green hair brushing up against his neck as she passes, and if he resists her any longer, he may experience something worse than falling off the edge.

Because at least he'd fall off the edge with her teeth in his collarbone and his fingers in her hair.


	44. scorpiuslily

lilyscorpius; _"she will be loved" by maroon 5_

as requested by Renzhie

She likes to go down by the lake sometimes, in the evenings, to just lie and bask in the last threads of sunlight. She stretches out her pale freckled legs, tilts back her head so her fire-red hair splays out against the green grass in a contradiction, and roves her emerald eyes over the blue of the sky, counting clouds and thinking things.

He likes to watch her, because he can't touch. He watches her smile as the grass tickles her feet, frown as the sun finally sets, and then just sits still, waiting for night to lay claim to the day completely before getting up and going back. That's when he runs; she can't find him.

But today she's not lying down or smiling; she's standing, rock clasped in her hands, the lines on her face taut with anxiety and eyes lacking the twinkle of other days. He goes over to her, stands beside her with crossed arms and a confident smirk as always, but he doesn't say a word.

"What d'you want, Malfoy?" she finally mutters, but she doesn't look at him. Her eyes are on the steady ripples of the lake.

"It's a free country," he snaps, "I can be here if I want."

"Screw you." she says, chucking the rock and watching it splash into the lake, upsetting the water so that it attacks the shore with little waves, a mini-tsunami. She turns on her heel, but he grabs her elbow, and as much of a spitfire as Lily is, Scorpius is stronger in upper-arm strength.

"Look, kiddo," he says, because he knows she hates that name. "It's not always rainbows and butterflies." A raised red eyebrow, a twitch in her lips - a smile? Maybe.

"My heart is full and my door's always open," he finishes, "You can come anytime you want."

She rolls her eyes - she thinks she's heard the words before, come out of a mouth with a melody, but she can't be sure.

"Whatever." she says, slithering from his grasp and turning again. He lets her, this time. "May wanna lay off the dust for awhile, Malf; I've got some good stuff under my bunk, you ever want that."

And he smiles as he watches her retreat, because he's sure she does.


	45. dominiquefred

freddominique; _clock _&_ sunshine_

as requested by Kats in socks

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It's only a matter of time, he thinks, before he gives in.

Because she's _Dominique Gabrielle Weasley_, and she's beautiful and charismatic and French, and no one can quite equal her. She's like sunshine after a storm, a beacon of light in the darkest times.

And he, he loves her, more than anything in the world, and he knows her better than anyone. She doesn't know it, but he studies her. He studies the way she loves antique grandfather clocks, the way her white-blue hair trails down her lean back and glows with ethereal radiance; the way she bites her lip when she's excited, the way she chews off the end of her quills, the way she stalks about the house like a lioness on the prowl (even though she's Ravenclaw to her very center).

He can name a hundred reasons off the top of his head why he loves her, but he could never tell one to her face, because she's amazing and breathtaking in every possible way, and him? Well, he's just adorable little Fred, the cousin that gets passed up, the boy that she'll never notice.

**a/n: i was wearing a fred shirt (from youtube) while i was writing this. der.**


	46. mollyfred

mollyfred; _tonight you're mine_

as requested by breathtakingly

In the mornings, I watch - watch as you hoist the cup to your lips, and pour the coffee through; I watch your pleasant expression as it slides down your throat, hot and delicious. I watch as you frown as you touch your hair, curly and crazy auburn locks that explode around your pale face and frame your hazel eyes. But then you smile so big, with your laugh just as, and I cannot help but find the beauty beneath the unkempt hair and between the lines that crinkle around your eyes.

And I watch as he comes in, kisses you and loves you, laughs as Lucy sticks her tongue out and complains. I see you catch my eye; don't worry, I know you're his now.

But tonight, you slip the black dress off and your hair is perfect in its brushed coils; your eyes sparkle with passionate fire, and I welcome you to me, laying kisses on your throat and brushing my fingers over your smooth cheekbones and cherry-red lips. And I smile, because tonight you're mine, not his.

**a/n: is it bad that i really, really love this? that makes me sound so superficial but _i do_. gah.**


	47. teddymolly

mollyteddy; _why me?_

as requested by 13dramaqueen13

His fingers curl around her neck, looping through auburn curls as he presses his lips ever so gently to hers, tasting like cinnamon and mint gum which shouldn't taste as good as it does. It's nothing but an innocent little kiss, just a peck, really.

But then their hunger consumes them, and there's a couple more kisses, which soon turn into a collision of disastrous sorts, with their bodies entwining like serpents, his hair flickering to dangerous colors - red and black and sparkling gold - in his ecstasy, and she succumbs to him easily, _so_ easily, _too_ easily.

Because this is Teddy, and he could have his pick of any of them - he could pick a beautiful girl like Victoire or Dominique, or a funny one like Roxanne or Lucy - but no, he picks Molly, sweet Molly who has clunky glasses that never stay on her nose and hair that never stays in place.

It's deep in the darkness, when steam billows from his hot breath and the only light is from the brightness of his hair, when she asks him "Why me? Why'd you choose me?"

And she senses him laughing on her neck, feels the shuddering of his body, as he whispers, "I didn't choose you. Fate chose us."


	48. lorcanlouislysander

lysanderlouislorcan; _daffodil_

as requested by not-gonna-grow-up

They're a cataclysm in and of themselves, the Scamander twins.

Louis thinks he's never had to do anything harder than picking a favorite. Lysander is wild, unorthodox passion, with his hair sticking up in every direction and his wand a weapon of mass destruction. And Lorcan is calm, quirky peculiarity, babbling on about mythical creatures like they exist and refusing to pluck a daffodil for fear of hurting it.

Louis doesn't really want to choose, because they both have their pros and their cons, and he loves all of their attributes as much as he allows himself. Lysander goes with him in one way, when he needs fire and heat and nights where he's up until four doing things that'd make his mother blush. Lorcan goes with him in the other way, when he needs warmth and a friend and nights where he's up until four talking and wearing his heart on his sleeve. He thinks if they could just be one person, he'd be happy. He wonders if there's a spell for that.

It doesn't matter. Louis is a sinner, and always will be.


	49. lilylysander 2

lilylysander; _"i can explain!_"

as requested by cutecudlyme

"I can explain!" is what Lysander shouts when Lily walks unannounced through the front door and there's whipped cream dripping from the ceiling and enveloping the living room like some sort of frosted wonderland, and Ly's clothes are practically torn to shreds and his hair is spiked in all the wrong places and whipped cream is all in there.

She stares at him, stares at the floor, the walls, the ceiling. He's fumbling with his fingers looking like a child caught drawing on the walls in crayon, even though this is definitely a harder mess to clean up than that.

"No need," Lily says, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets and strolling about the room, dipping her feet into the foamy white substance on the ground. "Isn't it obvious? You were having a wild party with your fourteen mistresses and decided to get a little kinky, but the whipped cream you planned on using got out of hand and just as you were all about to just go with it, you heard my car outside and covered them all in whipped cream so I couldn't see them." She shrugs. Lysander scratches his head as though he hasn't an idea what the fuck she's just said- which, frankly, he doesn't. "I do it all the time, trust me."

He smiles then, shaking his head so little foamy bubbles fall out, and wraps his arms around her. "Untrue," he says, "I only have twelve mistresses."

He probably deserves the slap of more whipped cream across his cheek.


	50. jameslucy 2

jameslucy; _"go away, i hate you._",_ "no, you don't.",_ & _"but i want to."_

as requested by Vanity Sinning

He likes the feel of her skin on his fingertips. It's smooth and warm, and he can feel the blood pumping through her as he runs his hands over the blue outlines in her arms. There's red marks that trail up her arm, cover the blue lines and pale flesh, and she tries to get him to ignore them but all he can do is stare and stare and hate.

"Go away," she growls as he reaches for her, "I _hate_ you."

He brings his lips to her wrist, gently kissing the scars that glitter with sorrow. "No, you don't."

"But I want to." she says, and he can hear the quiver in her voice and he silences her with a kiss that makes her cry even harder, but he just presses himself against her and breathes in the salt and hopes, for the hundredth time, that she'll turn out okay.


	51. roseoc

roseoc; _frog_

as requested by Aebbe

"You've got to be joking."

"Oh, I never joke, m'lady." Eli smiles at her with those teeth of his that seem to glow without him even trying. Rose tries to hide her blush in her book, but she's never been the best at keeping secrets from him. (Well, maybe one secret, but she's really not ready to give her Muggle boyfriend a heart attack.)

"If you think I'm going to accept that 'gift' from you, you must be drunk or something." she says, averting her eyes from the slimy-looking creature Eli's got in his hands.

"Oh, for God's sake, Rose, it's just Tiffany," he says, looking with some sort of warped affection at the frog currently trying to wriggle from his grasp. "Isn't she just a cutie?"

"Not in my opinion." Rose says, rolling her eyes, and Eli does that thing with his eyebrows that makes Rose's stomach explode and herself terrified because she never can trust those wriggling eyebrows. "Eli...E, don't you - ack!" And the frog is in her hands, and she can feel the skin and the mucus and the slime and it's the most disgusting thing in the world.

"Don't go and drop her now." he chortles, and the only reason she keeps a firm grip is because there's no telling what the fuck this thing will do if she drops it.

"You fucker." Rose hisses, and he just kisses her head and runs off, screaming behind him "meet you two lovely ladies back at the house!" She could kill that bastard, she really could.


	52. catolilylouis

catolilylouis; _"this - _we're_ messed up."_ & _"i know."  
><em>

as requested by overstreets

"It's not that I don't care about you," she whispers from the other side of the room. He's lying in bed, counting the crusty tiles just to distract himself from that face that she's leaving again. She never can stay put in one place for long, that he understands - it's just the fact that in a matter of hours she'll be on a flight to go see _him_, the blonde-haired vicious boy who doesn't know she's in bed with her cousin every night he's not there.

"Sure." Louis replies. Forty-seven tiles, forty-eight, forty-nine...

"It's just..." he feels her approach him, can see the fiery hair out of his peripheral. He could spot her from a mile away. He's always looking for her, anyway. "This..._we're_ messed up."

Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven...

"I know." he breathes, and he dares a look at her. Dammit, she's beautiful.

"I love you." she mumbles, almost like she hopes he doesn't hear her say it. "But I love Cato too."

"I know." he says. She lays a kiss to his cheek, and then she's gone in one pop.

"I know." he says again.

Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four...


	53. mollycato

mollycato; _back home__  
><em>

as requested by lunalestrange4

District 2 is a nightmare.

It's everything Molly's read about in stories, but no place she's ever wanted to visit. It's gray and dreary, and even though it's awfully luxurious, nobody acts like they're happy. Because everywhere you turn, there's a fight breaking out, and people crowd around like it's some kind of show until someone drops dead. The Peacekeepers even seem to enjoy it. For Molly, all it does is make her want to cry.

She wishes she could be back home, with her family. Back at the Burrow where Grandma Molly fixes sweets for everyone and all the kids eat and play and she can sit with Rose while they read their books, and blush whenever Lysander tries to flirt with her (because for some reason, it's always her he goes to). Back home, no one fights and no one dies. Everyone just loves.

But then Cato slips his hand into hers, and even though he's probably the worst of them all when it comes to fighting, he's the only one who makes this seem like a good choice.


	54. catolily

catolily; _"don't you dare!"  
><em>

as requested by lunalestrange4

When he tells her he's going to volunteer, she reacts just as he expected: with raging hot anger.

"Don't you dare!" she growls at him, with her wand in shaky hand as though threatening him with death could possibly sway him (it'd just be a much easier way to go).

"I have to," he says, "it's my duty. If I don't, I'll be a laughingstock."

"What you'll be is _alive_." she says. "You'll be with me. You won't have to die."

He thinks he sees a tear fall. Lily never cries, and that's one of the reasons he loves her: because she's cold like him. She's learned to rid herself of emotions. They're merely a hassle. Then again, love is an awfully strong emotion.

Cato reaches across the bed they're on, kisses her roughly (because he just can't do gentle, no matter how hard he tries). "I have to. I love you...but I have to."

That night she leaves, and he's pretty sure he won't see her again, whether he wins or not.


	55. the scamander twins

the scamander twins; _one and the same  
><em>

as requested by Vanity Sinning

People like to say they're one and the same.

They're not.

He can't stand it when they say that. He can't stand it when they say they can't tell the difference between him and Lorcan. It should be right there in front of their faces.

Lorcan is positively _mad_, and Lysander just can't take it when people say "one and the same," because he knows what goes on in their heads. They think _he's _mad. They think they're both mad.

Molly ruffles his hair and says it's "cute" when he acts "funny," and all it does is make the heat in his heart stronger because HE'S NOT FUNNY. HE IS NORMAL.

He's _not_ Lorcan, they're _not_ one and the same.

He's fucking _Lysander_, and nobody is allowed to take that from him.


	56. lorcanlucy 3

lorcanlucy; _the choices we make  
><em>

as requested by shut away

Sometimes he calls her beautiful, and sometimes it makes her smile.

But other times it makes her grab fistfuls of her hair and it's all she can do to not cry because this isn't what she wanted.

It's not that she doesn't love him, it's just that he's not the same. He's not charmingly clueless, he's not blue-eyed and blonde-haired, he's not _Lorcan_.

_The choices we make dictate the life we lead_. She can't remember where she heard it, but thinking of Lorcan and the way he looked when she said goodbye to him as she boarded that train, as she snapped her wand in half and vowed _never again_, she knows it's true. And she knows she's always been wrong.


	57. teddy lupin

teddy lupin; _autumn leaves  
><em>

as requested by Vanity Sinning

Teddy's always changing. He can never sit still, and he never wants to - he's blessed with his mother's vitality and cursed with his father's roaming ways, and as often as his hair morphs into different shades, his home morphs into different versions. He doesn't think he's ever really had a concrete home - he was shuffled from Harry's to Bill's to Molly and Arthur's as often as twice a week, and he's slept in dozens of beds (sometimes with a girl slung over the other side), and he wonders if this is a lifestyle his parents would've smiled upon.

His hair changes with the seasons, red and orange like the autumn leaves, and white and gray like the winter snow, and green and purple like the spring flowers, and pink and yellow like the summer sunset. And his home changes with them too, because he doesn't need much else than the clothes on his back and food in his stomach to survive out there. He doesn't need much of anything else.

(Though the warmth of someone's hand on his shoulder may be okay, too.)


End file.
